


Wild things

by bqckchat



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M, NSFW, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poly queen, Smut, enjoy i guess ??, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:45:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bqckchat/pseuds/bqckchat
Summary: » Look at what a 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘹 you are, dear! «Freddie’s voice rang in his ear, the sweet taunt in his voice obvious, so close. John could feel his breath across his cheek, warm, and when the bassist took his courage together to just lightly tild his head, there was their vocalist, looking ready to eat him up. His grin was wide, smug, mocking, features even sharper than usual. He seemed like a shark, like he was ready to tear John apart right there, in front of the others. Like he 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 to watch him this flustered.ORJohn has been pining for all of his band mates and finally gets what he wants.





	Wild things

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is. I wrote it for a friend, but decided to post it here, too.

Ꭲhe studio lights were dim, the mood of the evening wrapping itself around everything. It was a lazy day, for once, without the usual snappy comments and loud screeches of success when they found an idea so good, no fallen drumkits and no ripped strings. It was just silent, brooding talent that got shared around the four of them, but despite the calmness of the situation Deacon was nothing close to that. 

He preferred the bussiness they usually had. Not because it was fun to argue all the time, but simply because it did not give him room to fall into the hole of staring at his bandmates again, daydream about their features and tiny little movements that made him shift.  
The quarrels kept him sane as much as they drove him mad, and without them, right it all felt very real, very pressing, and Deacon could not help but wish to share something in common with all of them, even if it was just to be his tongue. 

They were all young, beautiful, they all differed and yet they were all the same, made John want them. It was a risky little thing, really, but for once he forgot about the consequences of it all and found himself even enable to recognise when scenes got his pants to tighten again.  
Yes - John Deacon was getting achingly hard over his bandmates, all three of them, and he did not know what to do, for it occurred ever so often.  
It was bad, wasn’t it?

But when Freddie stood behind the table with his delicate hands on the wood, nails painted in black, glossy and entrancing, with his lips pursed and his eyes dark, features sharp and makeup washes out from the drag of the day, John could not help himself. Mercury was fierce, touchy, and the thought of possibly getting away with a quick grab to his thigh or a hand on his hip was lingering in his mind oh too often. Fred was always by his side, somehow, always had his hands on him yet never enough. The bassist thought about just grabbing onto him, at one point, throwing shyness aside with his fingers in raven strands and his lips on the other’s throat, breathing in his scent, but then waved it off again despite all odds. He was so talented, so rich with ideas, and John went mad over the idea of Freddie’s 

 

quick fingers working their way across his clothes, silver tongue spitting out praises and mocking little nicknames as the brunette writhed under his touch. 

Grey-green eyes moved across the room, catching onto Taylor next, with his golden locks and his hooded eyes, thin lips, shirt undone. His chest showed, the slight curve of his stomach, the tan skin, and John’s eyes mapped it out the the border of his pants. Tight, pressing right around his thighs and yet still leaving room for too much imagination. He sat at that kit with his legs spread, body straight, arms stretching out to hit the drums to the sound, and John thought about slipping onto the floor right before him and having him cuss out. What’d he do if the youngest dropped to his knees, jeans scrubbing over the floor, mouth searching, with no explanation? With not a word of warning ? He thought about Taylor’s drum skills, imagined those fingers in his hair, pulling on the strands, tapping at his skull, jutting his hips to a rhythm and whining out sounds so high one could mistake them for a girl. Would his eyes seem even more droopy? Pupils even brighter? Long eyelashes flattering as his lips slipped apart to breathe out his mates name? 

Deacon moved on again, gaze dropped to the floor as he searched across it till he was sure to have caught onto the last in the round; May. His eyes pulled higher again, took in all of the guitarist. The way his lips were parted yet again, just the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed, wild curls falling into his face, voice like honey. 

The way he grinned was fascinating, how he strummed his guitar, tilted his head and showed off his contours without even knowing it. The bassists mind was struck with ideas of himself seated right on the other’s lap, legs fallen apart, cheeks in a rosé color as Brian’s hands worked him off. Fingers on his inner thigh, tracing along pale skin, grabbing onto flesh, pumping around his cock, coaxing him closer with sweet murmurs whispered right into his ear. How would it feel to be pressed right up against him, chest to chest, with Deacon’s cheek on his shoulder, lips nipping along his collarbones, legs squeezed against his waist while he helplessly rocked against him? 

How could it possibly be fair to want all three of his friends to touch him ? His mind was a rollercoaster of thoughts, eyes trailing from one man to the other, from Freddie manhandling him in the dressing room to Roger curled around him from behind, pushing his body into the fabric of the studio’s couch, making him yelp out, to May sitting him on the kitchen’s counter to tease him till his legs shake and he almost slips off the cool surface, only further into his grip. Then it all went back to Mercury who’d have such a pretty hold of his jaw while Deacon’s mouth received him, the drummers hands along the curve of his back, shivers up his spin, soft breathing, hard shaking, Brian lulling him into a rhythm with his hands above his head, pinned against whatever as he got taken care of, so good. 

Deacon’s pants were tight, so tight, pressing right against his crotch in the most aching way. With every move he made the fabric shifted, pushed against his boner in a new way, made it even more uncomfortable. The bass, while hanging low, was still not low enough to hide what was going on, and the brunette found himself in a situation where he wanted to hide from the others, yet his mind still spun on.

» Look at what a 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘹 you are, dear! «

 

Freddie’s voice rang in his ear, the sweet taunt in his voice obvious, so close. John could feel his breath across his cheek, warm, and when the bassist took his courage together to just lightly tild his head, there was their vocalist, looking ready to eat him up. His grin was wide, smug, mocking, features even sharper than usual. He seemed like a shark, like he was ready to tear John apart right there, in front of the others. Like he 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 to watch him this flustered. 

Mercury’s words didn’t go without the others gazes falling onto him too, icy blue and chocolate eyes staring him down while he stood like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to say. 

 

» What got you that hard, love? Thinking ‘bout a girl? «

Guessing from the tone that the other spoke in, he very much knew that it wasn’t the case.  
Had he been that obvious? Stared too hard ? Should he have held that bass lower? Had he said too little, to even draw that attention on him?  
While Freddie seemed entertained, excited about the turn of events, with his lips still too close to John’s ear, batting his eyelashes like the succubus he was, the other’s seemed more curious than anything else.  
Still, he did not know what to say, simply stared at Freddie for too long, lips agape, stuttered out letters that weren’t even close to an answer, looked back to the others, searched for a way out of this. If he answered, would Mercury let him off the hook, let him  
go and finish himself off without another remark? 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵. But was it worth a try? 

“No,” John spoke, kept his voice as calm  
as he possibly could with the singer pressed against his side. Freddie draped an arm right around his neck, played with the fabric of the bassists shirt and looked at him so fondly, in adoration, like Deacon’s hopelessness was a thing that brought him joy.  
Mercury took a hold of his bass, slipped it off him and placed it aside with care, only to pull him right back into his hold, wrap Deaky up in his arms and stroke along his chest like he was to be tamed. “Please, Fred.” He sounded, shy and silent, avoided gaze and looked at Brian like he was supposed to help him, get him out of this, even if his mind twirled with the thought of maybe, just maybe, giving in and whispering his fantasies into Freddie’s ear. He raked his head at the image, blinked his eyes. 

 

» Please what, my love ? Tell us about it. Who was it? Roger ? Brian ? Me? «

Fred pressed a kiss against his cheek, let his fingertips play along the hem of the bassists shirt while the latter looked off in shame. Shame at the fact that it was not just one of them, but all together, that he was turned on by the thought of all three of them.  
Taylor finally seemed to pipe up a little, get the hang of it, lose the awkwardness of the situation and fall into the sense that this could be fun for him, too. He turned from a stiff board to a seductive little thing, blinking his eyes and showing off those ocean orbs like they could entrance John any further, like he was fighting for the answer to be 𝘩𝘪𝘴 name. Like Deaky would be a trophy to keep. 

» Who is it? « 

Taylor asked, pleased Mercury with the add on, received a pretty grin from the singer. Green-grey eyes still focused on Brian, hoped for a comment of his that’d cut them off, or 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 he was waiting for May to join them, too, give him all the attention he could possibly want. Yet, the guitarist stayed in place, kept his fingers right in place, ready to plug a string, while he watched the brunette intently. He observed him, like he was making out the parts he was made of, calculating what he’d do if it came to it, how he could get him undo, make him fall apart into vulnerability for him. It was a disgustingly attractive thought, awful and hungry, and he did not want to turn it off.  
He wanted it, him, them all.

» Speak, darling, we don’t bite. « 

 

John had to choke back a laugh, Mercury’s hand on his hip now, stroking along his side to try and encourage him to speak again, use his words, as if it’d get him a reward if he just came across his fear. 

“All of you.” 

He blabbered out, looked into the round of them, trembled under Mercury’s touch and the other’s eyes on him. Freddie gasped dramatically, grin only widening. Roger reacted similiar, offered Deacon his best smirk, took a little step closer only to slip up right besides Freddie, run a finger across his thigh. 

»Now would you look at 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 ! Even you, Brian ! Won’t you help him out, too?«

Brian seemed caught in the act, watched intently, made John’s cheeks burn up with embarassment while Roger whispered mocking words against his throat, while Freddie seemed to have fun with slipping hands under his shirt and roaming across his stomach. May picked on a string, let the note it made sound out before he placed Red aside, slow, like he was in no rush, the opposite of the other two. Mercury was fast with his hands and praises, spilling out compliments like a waterfall while he touched John like he owned every piece of him already, like he was otherworldly, like he was different from  
all the other man when John could not find a difference. Taylor was a tease, talked low and pursed his lips with every word that left his mouth, always eager to keep eye contact, to see 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 how the youngest would react to him. 

Deacon leaned into the two of them, tilted his head back, relaxed, let them handle him and take him apart while he looked out for Brian. He closed his eyes, hummed in response to Taylor’s teasing, and the moment he blinked his eyes open again there was a slender finger right on his jaw, stroking along his contours, tapping over his skin. A thumb swiped across his lips, made Deacon open his mouth without a second thought. 

Mercury had managed to shove his shirt up quite a bit, tight silk pushed as far up as it possibly could go without being taken off. His lips were on the brunette’s throat, swiping against it, layering kisses, licking stripes. John blabbered out nonsense, bucked his hip into Roger’s direction who fiddled with the button and zipper of his pants, relieved him of the tightness that had been there prior to it. His eyes followed along the blonde’s hands, watched as they hooked into his belt loops, pulled his trousers down achingly slow. He watched as Taylor crouched to struggle them  
off, pressed his lips right to his thigh, got him  
to shiver. The guitarist tapped at his jaw, drew his attention back to him, circled his index finger around his lips and John, in an impulse, darted his tongue out to lick across his finger, swirl around it and suck it into his mouth with a disgusting little noise. 

With Brian’s finger pressed into his mouth, comfortable between the roof of his mouth and his tongue, Roger’s mouth wandering around his thighs and leaving bites on what he deemed the most senesitive spots and Freddie’s finger testingly playing with his nipples while his crotch pressed right against the back of his thigh, John could hardly stand straight anymore. The rocking from Freddie, the shuffling of Taylor’s hands around his legs to gain access and the slight curve of his back, tilt of head, to look up at Brian was doing the most and turning him into a shifty, stumbling and shivering mess.

» Aren’t you just 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 like 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 ? «  
» Damn, if you could see yourself. «  
» Be good for us, Deaky. «  
» Take your clothes off, dear. «

Overwhelmed by praise and demand, it did take a moment for John to stop suckling around on May’s finger, jutting his hips to try and get any sort of friction from the other too and realize that they had stopped, waiting for him to do as told. The bassist blinked his eyes, pulled May’s finger from his mouth and looked between all of them. “Undress.. myself?”  
He asked- to make sure he heard just right- a subtle blush across his face. Wouldn’t it have been more likely for them to tear everything off and have him how they wanted ? 

He halted a little longer, before he took a small step forward, just enough to have a tad more room. And then it hit him; that this was 𝘴𝘰 much worse than them taking his clothes off.  
This was like a show for them and John was sure that he could feel their eyes on him. 

The brunette swallowed, avoided eyes, kicked his pants off that had pooled around his ankles and kicked them aside. He raised his arms, hooked his fingers under his shirt and slipped his shirt off with a rock on his tiptoes, throwing it towards his abandoned pants.  
Shame built up, more than ever. He was sure they had all seen each other naked at one point, maybe from accidentally walking into dressing rooms too early, other times from shit ideas like going skinny dipping while drunk,or maybe because Freddie had his days were he insisted it was just too hot to wear anything. Or the route that included finding Roger naked with girls huddled up besides him. Either one of those was awkward-sure- but not as heavy as this.

He felt like every little move he made was observed carefully, every little attempt to straighten his back or even if it was just the heave of his chest, feet shuffling over the floor.  
It was the worst and best thing all at once. John caught his breath, fluttered his eyelashes, slipped his hands beneath his underwear.

“You should undress, too.” 

He looked back, over his shoulder, stole a glance towards the 3 of them. Their grins, the way their eyes seemed to light up with utter 𝘫𝘰𝘺. The way they all immediately scattered to take their clothes off too, threw it all in a pile. John looked back away before they were done, brushed his palms down across his thighs and slipped his boxers down with it, focused on everything 𝘣𝘶𝘵 his band mates. 

» Come on, now. Give us a kiss ! «

The bassist faced the others again, approached shyly, turned his attention to Taylor as a first now. Roger grabbed onto his waist with one arm, squeezed, let his fingers trace along his side, over his ribs, gave them a few taps. He teased, brushed across his hip bone and scrapped a nail over it, tried everything out, called him 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺. He kissed him, with his hand on his shoulder and his fingertips pressed into his skin. Deacon closed his eyes, pressed against him, longed for his lips, sulked in the whispers coming from Mercury and May. John allowed himself to touch the drummer, pressed flat against his stomach, roamed across his chest, his back, threaded his fingers through blonde strands, tucked on them when Roger licked into his mouth. 

A gentle hand on his hip urged him away from the drummer, lead him towards the next, and Deacon accepted it with eyes closed. He did not check on who he was kissing, simply let his hands moved till he figured it out blindly. In honesty, it did not take long, going off the arms wrapped around him, hands on his ass that pulled him onto his tip toes. John intertwinted his fingers behind the other’s head, soft curls tickling over his skin. The kiss was gentler, yet not less passionate, and he happily leaned into it, raised one leg and tried to shift higher, lean more into the kiss. The youngest let out a happy sigh, tangled fingers through wild curls now, stroked through them . When May squeezed at his ass Deacon gripped on his hair harder in return, finally opened his eyes to be met with Brian’s, only to be urged away right after.

» My turn. «

Freddie purred almost, offered him one of his broad grins, received him into his arms and firstly brushed a finger over his bottom lip. The bassist let himself be touched, opened his mouth, closed it again, dragged his lip across Mercury’s finger. He tugged the vocalist’s hand away gently, jerked forward to receive his lips. A greedy little action that mused the other, flattered him maybe, but Deacon could not have cared less about niceties, rather captured in the want to just keep kissing each of them. 

“Touch me,”

he breathed, pulled from the kiss for that moment before he melted back into it. In the next second there were six hands on him, teasing across his body, grabbing, kneading, scratching, pinching. They pulled at his waist, hips, one more greedy than the other, tried to win him over as theirs, and Deacon could have sworn he was in absolute 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯. John’s eyes couldn’t keep up, head turned every few moments to kiss the next one, in no particular order. 

It was like one of their arguments; one started to pull at Deacon, 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳, and then the next one pulled and it was like the bassist was going around in a circle, handed around, like they were fighting about who had the right to touch him. 

At first it was just that, pushing and pulling, with one hand on his hip, one wrapped around his wrist, the next one cupped around his jaw. 

“Guys, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.” 

John gasped, glazed eyes, cheeks red, lips swollen and wet. 

 

» It’s 𝘮𝘺 turn, «

Roger choked out, dug his fingers into John’s hips, pulled him right against him. Deacon let out a mewl, intertwined his fingers with Brian’s, who had previously been grasping onto his wrist. He tilted his head back against Roger’s shoulder, breathed out shakily, searched for Freddie with the other hand. 

» Oh dear, I think it’s John’s decision who comes next! «

Freddie spoke- interrupted by a strict »No!« from Brian, and then they were back at it again. Taylor tried to keep him close, kept his hips, while Freddie tugged on his arm, Brian wrapped around his chest and tried to bring him close. In the end, it was just John ending up bent over, wobbly on his legs as they all touched him, roamed across his body. 

»Stop it, Freddie!«  
»You stop pulling at him!«  
»Do you have to turn everything into an argument?«  
“Guys! There’s.. there’s enough time to go through all of you. Please.” 

John pressed a kiss to everyone’s lips, again, reassured them that it did not matter in which order he’d get to them. Saying that, he still waved Roger off as a first, shushed him with a  
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘨. He settled for familiarity, for trust, went for their vocalist first. After all, John had not quite yet been through a foursome before, anything than simple sex, really, and if it was about who he’d trust the most with things like this it 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 would always be Freddie.

So, logically, the brunette kissed with arms wrapped around the singer, whispered questions against his lips like ‘what should i do’, ‘what would you like’ or statements like ‘i’ve never done this before’, ‘i want to suck you all off’. Freddie stroked through his hair, over his cheek, told him to 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹, to not think about it too much.

After soft whispers and gathered realization about the fact that maybe they should take it  
𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸, give John the chance to have his way, to test out everything, the bassist did find his spot on the ground. 

The wood was cool, rough, scrapped against his knees but not enough to make John mind it.  
It was quite the sight- for all of them- he guessed. For John, obviously, who was kneeling right before his bandmates with his hands folded in his lap like a shy little thing, playing with his fingers. It was new, to see them from this angle, to know that he’d get to what he had thought about so often. It was hot, scary too. 

He sits, nervous, looks around between them like they are going to help him through this one too, like they’ll tell him what 𝘩𝘦 wants to do. 

Then, from one moment to the other, he decides that he’s had enough of waiting and being embarassed by his own imagination, and in a testing little attempt his hands grab onto Freddie’s hips, thumbs brushing along hipbones while he blinks up at him. Fred’s half hard, despite having gotten nothing more than kissed and halfhearted bucks of John’s hips, his little whispers. He looks, notes that the other’s aren’t much different, and then his focus falls back onto Mercury’s face again. 

He takes him into one hand, clumsy and unsure, like it’s any different from him jerking off. He trails his fingertips across in some sense of adoration, tilts his head and opens his mouth.

“My hair,”

He mumbles silently, waits for either one of them to hold it back, before his tongue darts out and he licks a stripe right across Fred’s tip. He repeats, again and again, until he thinks he’s used to the taste, the weirdness of it all, how different it is from simply having Brian’s fingers in his mouth, pressing against his tongue.

Yes, John knows that he might be the worst blowjob that Freddie has ever gotten, that it is more of him trying to get accustomed to it, but for now he does not care. He’s busy swirling his tongue around the tip, slowly pumping his hand to a wonky rhythm he won’t keep before he actually even wraps his lips around it for the first time. He tightens around it, slips his head forward and sucks the vocalist’s cock in further, just the tiniest bit. He get’s used to it again, presses his tongue flat against it, relaxes his jaw and tries to prepare himself for what’s about to come. He pushes further again, too far, chokes and splutters and pulls back for a moment but the hands holding his hair urge him back forward.

There’s a moment of suffering, where Deacon whines and splutters and blinks his eyes while he tries to take the other one in. 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳, he thinks, has to grin around the dick in his mouth. His hand is still moving, making up for the lack of mouth he can give before he tries again. He chokes yet again, wobbles his head in an attempt to get away again, breathes through his nose. 

Fingers brush through his hair, massage along his scalp. Brian whispers for him to take his time while Roger only refers to him as a 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 boy. It’s nice - a little weird when not used to. 

Anyhow, after a cycle of John splattering for air only to push his mouth back further onto Freddie’s dick, a little bit of tears and at reassurance that he didn’t look like a complete idiot, John did manage to swallow Mercury down a fair amount, enough to be proud of himself at least. He swallowed around the vocalist, pressed his tongue against it, swirled around, sucked and hollowed out his cheeks as much as he could. He squeezed his eyes shut, hand steady at the other’s base, lazily twisting and jerking with every bop of his head. He relishes in the fact that Freddie at least makes some noise, pretty little moans that make the bassist shuffle in excitement.

Soon enough, though, the brunette’s mouth is pulled off, left feeling empty. Saliva is pooling in his mouth, brimming at his lips and then there’s a dripple that drops and John wipes across his mouth quickly. He open his eyes back up, looks at the others, their pretty grins and flushed faces. John smiles- wet lips and glazed eyes- moves over to Roger. He places his hands on his thighs, strokes along them and presses a kiss to the inside of one, nibbles at the skin. He works his way up, to the base of Roger’s cock. He presses delicate kisses alomg it, up to the tip, down the other side, laps across it. He flicks his tongue against his tip before it’s swallowed into his mouth, and the bassist prides himself on the fact that it isn’t as bad as he had handled Freddie. Though, that might have been the fact that Mercury was quite bigger than their drummer.

The brunette swallows around Roger, closes his eyes yet again to fully focus on what his mouth is doing. He swirls his tongue, pulls his head off to suck on just the tip. He licks and drags his lips around it tightly, bops his head and let’s Roger push his head down to the root, stay there for as long as John could hold his breath, till he chokes again. He pulls off with a wet noise, kisses all over Roger again while his eyes water, shuffles closer again, wraps one hand around his cock and follows the movements of his hand with his tongue for as long as his throat is putting up a protest, feeling rough and used. After the short pause, John is taking Taylor in again to the brim, feelng him hit the back of his throat with every jut of his hip. John gives up, let’s the drummer lead his head, let’s him fuck into his mouth like he wants to. 

With his mouth being used like this, Deacon sets his free hands to use, wrapping one hand around himself 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. He’s hard and aching and the moment John so much as runs his index finger across the head there’s a moan crawling up his throat, sound blocked by Roger’s dick. He jerks himself off and moans and lazily sucks, rocks his hips into the nothing and searches for more touch other than the pulling on his hair. He finds nothing, rather is dragged off again and feels the oddness of having nothing in his mouth, right before he’s set in front of Brian. 

For a moment, all he can do is pause. If he had complained about Freddie’s size earlier after a few chokes, he’d definitely have something to cry about now. John blinked up at him, swallowed hard and let off his own cock for a  
moment as he contemplated about how the hell he was supposed to fit all of that into his mouth.

John starts like before again, covers Brian’s dick in kisses and licks and slicks it up well, twists his wrist around it and squeezes gently. He lets it push past his lips, sucks in his cheeks and lets it slide right against the back of his throat. He slips his hand back towards his cock, gets himself off while helplessly suckling on Brian, slowly moving his head. This time, though, he keeps his eyes open, looks out for the others. 

Freddie and Roger are having the time of their life, making out sloppily, licking across mouths, biting lips, jaws, throats. They’re jerking each other off, moaning exaggeratedly and looking at John with sly eyes. 

Brian’s hand is in his hair, fisting through strands of brown while Deacon still tries to take him in as much as possible, despite his eyes still settling on the others. It’s too much of a show, how they are grinding together without shame, Freddie grabbing at Taylor’s thighs and ass and happily wriggling around under the knowledge that John is watching. Roger’s hair is a complete mess, eyes dazed, hand tightly wrapped around Mercury’s cock, pumping and brushing his thumb across the head.

Unconsciously, John’s hand moves faster, rougher, mouth more eagerly swallowing around the guitarist while he cannot pull his eyes away. Brian’s finger is dancing around his cheek, stroking along his jaw and he tilts his head into it, let’s out a happily little, muffled noise. Roger is sucking marks into their singer’s neck, rich in color and big, biting right into the marks he created and Freddie moans so wonderfully that John shivers, juts his hips into the air. 

He pulls off with a pop, licks over his lips, pumps Brian a few more times, waves Freddie closer again. No, not the interrupt their kissing. He simply thinks about how hot it’d be to see Taylor and May kissing, now, and it’s enough to make him crawl back between Mercury’s legs. To his satisfaction the other two did start making out just as much, John being able to watch as their tongue’s pressed together, hips flushed. They kissed and rocked their hips and touched each other filthy while Freddie’s cock is pressed into his mouth. 

It continues like that, with John switching around between all of them, sucking them off with his hand around his own cock. He’s getting louder by minute, more shaky, touchy, keeps switching between all of them faster. 

Roger is the first to blabber about him being close and John ends up pulling off, simply getting him off with his fist around his cock. Taylor spills across his hand, lands just the slightest amount right onto his faces but John keeps stroking him through his orgasm till he’s done. He looks up at him with big eyes, provocating, and then in an impulse to show just how filthy he really could be the bassist licks across his fingers and swallows as much down as he can get. He moves on to the next-Freddie- sucks till he, too, tenses up and lets out a moan that rumbles through John’s whole body. This time, though, John barely pulls off. He lets the vocalist come right against his lips, come smeared across his mouth before he swipes his tongue around, tries to lick it off.

Brian is last. John sits patiently, teases him and kisses over his tip, sucks on it specifically and groans in encouragement, strokes his thigh with his free hand. He bops his head again and again, gulps. The guitarist let’s out a string off cuss words and John’s mouth falls open further, let’s him spill directly into his mouth this time. He looks at the others proudly, mouth open, tongue stuck out and only swallows when there are hands in his hair, patting him. 

By then his own dick is aching- throbbing- and the brunette is pulled onto his feet only to have each of them eagerly touch him. Now it’s them that take turns with kissing him, jerking him off, grabbing at his thighs and assc marking him up. Deacon closes his eyes, touches blurring together as he does not know who is pleasuring him. He tips his head back, licks across his lips and moans their names shakily. There are whisperes against his skin, kisses, little bites. 

» Come for us,” 

Taylor whispers and it’s enough to spur the bassist on further, to make him come right there, get weak in the knees for a moment. Someone catches him, and all John can do is smile dumbly and splutter out a string of ‘thank you’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Also!! My instagram is @dilectiio if anyone wants to write! @desirxus for my fred !


End file.
